New York Write to Pitch "First Pages" - 2022, 2023, 2024
A forum for New York pitch event alums to post samples of their scenes and prose narrative for detailed critique according to Algonkian Author Connect guidelines. Emphasis on choice of set, narrative cinema, quality of dialogue, metaphor, static and dynamic imagery, interior monologue, general clarity, tone, suspense devices, and routine line editing issues as well.
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The dispatch rider saluted the staff sergeant, threw the satchel over his shoulder, and bolted out of the reception to a row of BSA M20 motorcycles. He straddled the next workhorse in line, pulled his goggles down from his helmet, and gave it a sturdy jump-start. Off he sped, down a narrow road stretching north across the countryside. He knew every second mattered. The whistle blew its high-pitched farewell and the train jerked forward as it pulled away from Euston Station. Tommy’s heart rate accelerated in synchrony with the revving up of the engine. What am I in for? He pushed his spectacles further up his pointy nose, not to bring the scenery into clearer view …
Last reply by jgkulyk, -
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Chapter 1 Knowing that today would be one of Willow Glen Animal Shelter’s busiest of the year, Felicity Davis had skipped last night’s Fourth of July fireworks and gone to bed early. Even before her alarm buzzed, she jumped out of bed, causing her dog, Wilson, a Pyrenees mix, and her tabby cat, Jasmine, to rouse and leap from the bed. Felicity wanted to get to the shelter well before it opened and people started calling in with lost pet reports, so she breezed through her morning routine. “Sorry our walk is going to be short,” she apologized to Wilson as they went only once around the block. “We’ll take a longer one tonight.” Normall…
Last reply by Jennifer Ericson, -
Crossroad Blues by Ariel Elaine Slick Prologue Beatrice As the pallbearers lowered my sister’s body into the warm, rich earth, I wondered whether any change would have made any difference. Did any of us have the slightest control over the situation—except him? Perhaps it was useless to think so. Every tiny detail led me here, and I had a feeling, would keep leading me here, no matter what I did to stop it. Because I did try to stop it. I really did. Chapter 1 The devil's gonna git you Oh the devil's gonna git you Man the devil's gonna git you Sure as you're born to die -Bessie Smith Azoma, Louisiana, 1924 Beatrice The Vic…
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Last reply by Marlena, -
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MARKERS UNKNOWN, Speculative Fiction Thriller Opening Pages—Introduces protagonist, antagonist, setting, tone, and foreshadows the primary crisis and conflict. ONE Present Time. Colorado Springs Police Station. South Interrogation Room. That bastard cuffed me to the table and left the room, but we both know my petty theft isn’t what the FBI is after. In the harsh overhead lighting, I pull hard against the restraints in a continuous succession of aggressive tugs until I draw my own blood. The minute the warm, wet sensation meets the cold air of this unwelcoming environment, I cease all fighting. This is what I was after—not freedom, blood. …
Last reply by O.E. Soderberg, -
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Last reply by Sarah Pierce, -
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It was at Shari Saltzman’s Bat-Mitzvah that I asked my husband if he was having an affair. While Shari and her family had carefully planned every last detail of her momentous event—from her flawless Torah reading in synagogue to the Gummy Bear toppings at the ice-cream sundae bar at the reception—I hadn’t planned a damn thing. Still, both Shari and I came of age that spring day. I’d been to plenty of coming-of-age celebrations that year. Between nieces and nephews and neighbors, it seemed every Jewish kid was turning thirteen. One party was pretty much like any other, though the Saturday night receptions promised a little more panache (for a lot more green). The Bea…
Last reply by Natasha Williams, -
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Introduces antagonistic force, setting, tone & foreshadows a key conflict. Chapter 1 Philadelphia, October 4, 1779, Revolution Gone Awry: William Penn founded his colony in 1682, and named its capital using the Greek words, “philos,” friendly love, and “adelphos,” brother. It was the “City of Brotherly Love,” and, as Quakers friends were quick to add, “Sisterly Affection.” But Philadelphia had been anything but benevolent since Hannah Arnold had arrived last year. And, once again, it had turned deadly. She’d just witnessed an attempted assault on the Society Hill home of a Declaration of Independence signer. She peered down from City Tavern’s rooftop throug…
Last reply by Kathleen Yanity, -
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This is the first Chapter of my psychological thriller featuring the confession of a career politician who has chosen to detail the night she evolved from the weakest in her morally corrupt, wealthy family to the strongest. From the Office of Sen. Annalisa M. Blackburn-Moore Congratulations. And, I suppose, thank you. I’m not exactly sure why I am thanking you. I know that I should- that reading my story is an investment of your time and, after all, what is more precious than our time? I have learned that the hard way, but really, whoever learns when things are easy? Anyways, considering that sharing my story with you essentially clinches my own d…
Last reply by LBS, -
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The day Paul Boudreaux feared would never come was here at last. “D-day.” Dissertation defense. The last agonizing step in his long and arduous quest toward obtaining the highest prize in academia, the much-coveted Doctor of Philosophy. The PH fuckin’D. Paul, the only Louisianan in the turn-of-the-century New York University conference room, squirmed uncomfortably on the hard wooden chair across the table from the five-person committee arrayed like a firing squad in front of him. He was struggling to answer the tricky question just hurled at him by crusty Professor Jim Langley. “Gangly Langley,” as the doctoral students referred to the chair of the histo…
Last reply by Steve Caldas, -
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Chapter 1. Opening scene introduces protagonist's narrative structure, setting, stakes, and antagonistic forces/themes. First Year—Autumn Semester 1 Does it hurt a dragon to be called an elephant? On the morning before my first day at the Imperial Academy, Amma told me to be as noble and strong as an elephant of N’daia. I told my mother that there were no elephants here in Oreka and that I was a dragon. Amma laughed as she held my arm, and that ended the conversation. Since Amma can’t move fast like me or Abba, we took our time walking through the pebbled grounds of the palace. Everything about the palace is bright and colorful: with brown…
Last reply by Natasha Williams, -
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CALAIS JUNGLE July 1, 2016 Stolen Soap Far from the tents and stalls of Calais Jungle, a water spigot stands in a field of flowers. Freydun makes his way past refugees from hot troubled lands toward a language school near the faucet. He is eager to learn the French words he’ll need to make a life in this country with its damp air and people with pale hairless arms. Freydun lopes and slows, afraid to misread what’s before him. He thought he knew his motherland until it turned on him; now he is in France, ceding one fate for another, straddling East and West, swapping privilege for privation. He had no choice. Next to him is his fri…
Last reply by Carmen Gray, -
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Opening Scene of adult/new adult Science Fiction to introduce the main character, her special ability, and a little world building. Security Guild Capital (Chesapeake District) Shaanti closed her eyes to concentrate on keeping perfectly still. She held her head high, her shoulders back, hands pressed against the small of her back, and her feet shoulder width apart. It was torture. The more she tried not to move, the more her body demanded release. She was very good at many things - keeping still wasn’t one. Wearing her dress greys helped, they fit so snug. Her aunt had them specially tailored for the occasion, so this was her first time wearing them. Aunt Margue…
Last reply by DomGerard, -
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CHAPTER 0 | THE BOY “Earth is the why, there is no truth greater than that.” Faja’s voice always evoked a calm as the words slipped through her puffy white lips. “We have 6 days left to find a cure. This is no the time to take risks.” Mr. Helele was frustrated and beneath that he was afraid. His powerful frame couldn’t hide the fear behind his garish robes. “We are so close. If we take this wild thing into our midst the perfect balance we have worked so hard to achieve could be torn apart.” The update had arrived only an hour ago from the Vish Monastery. From: Vish High Council “We have found the cure. A boy, found quite by coi…
Last reply by Brian, -
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My son killed my wife, so I never cared about being his father. I couldn't remember the last time such a small physical act like a hug, or even a tender touch on the boy's shoulder, came naturally or willfully. This basic skillset existed in other parents. I know because I've studied them at kindergarten drop off and pick up, but my own gestures with Savion felt forced like a skill that never properly developed. Even though my son never knew his mother, Imani, they somehow shared mannerisms like the way they each bite their lower lip when nervous, or how they always let a laugh linger longer than what seemed appropriate for the situation. In those moments, I’d be reminded…
Last reply by Sharon Rodriguez, -
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This is a scene closer to the end. Even though it's a flashback scene, it's pivotal to the story since it informs the reader about what is holding Eve back in the present day. “Honey, I’m home!” I busied myself with grating the parmigiana until I heard his footsteps in the kitchen. His loud, clunky footsteps. I told him a million times to take his damn shoes off when he came home. So unsanitary. It was a state of mind I picked up in Singapore that always stuck with me. “Eve?” I glanced at him and then picked up the salad bowl. James moved closer to me. “Are you even going to say hi?” I scoffed, avoi…
Last reply by Natasha Williams, -
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Prologue Tijuana Mexico, 1951 Our Lady of Guadalupe Cathedral’s tower bell tolled once, twice. On a wooden park bench across the street, Sarapio Viscara’s heart skipped at the sound of each toll. He raised his eyes to the vibrant mural of the Virgin Mary standing with her hands folded in prayer above the faded red-brick cathedral’s front entrance, then stared down at the scars on his fingers suffered while he slaved in the Texas cotton fields. He clasped his hands. “Por favor, Virgencita, bring Carlota to me,” he whispered. His fate—his life—depended on the divine power of Mexico’s patron saint and the message he had left for Carlota the night before. …
Last reply by Lourdes Holtzhauer, -
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The summer Vrinn turned seven, her not-quite-mother led her from the edge of their village and deeper into the forest than she’d ever gone before. This was unusual, since Vrinn was often shouted at about wandering too deep into the woods. She had a habit of losing track of time and her own location when she was exploring. Crane—the woman who’d carved Vrinn from her dead mother’s womb and been responsible for her ever since—was furious whenever Vrinn came home late, always ordering her to stay closer to their cabin. So, the idea of actually being led into parts of the forest that Vrinn never seen, leaving foot trails and even deer paths behind was thrilling. She stare…
Last reply by Brady Hart, -
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First chapter below. This chapter serves to introduce the protagonist, give a little bit of background about her, and set the tone for her attitude. It also introduces the concept of magic, grounds the reader in the first of three main settings for the work, and sets the main conflict in motion. I'm also attaching this via PDF in case that's easier to read, because the formatting on this forum is a little wonky whenever I try to copy and paste my work into it, and I cannot get it to single-space for the life of me. Apologies in advance for my technological inadequacy 1. When Bryn woke in the morning, she was already late. Did it even count as morning if you’d …
Last reply by Abby Cummins, -
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Prologue – The Sunday Vinyl Project (a nonfiction memoir) May 13, 1987. My husband and I are going through the last of midterms this week. After this, it’s paper writing time. The list of chores is endless, and life goes on spinning us slowly in our tracks. To hesitate, to slow down for only a moment, would be to miss much of life’s experiences. If we could only capture some of the precious times with our children and with each other and place them in a looking glass for tomorrow. The best we can capture are two-dimensional images of a time, a person, an event... There is a piece missing that makes my heart ache in viewing the past, the spirit of that time. Captu…
Last reply by DomGerard, -
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Opening portion of the opening scene -- meant to establish the tone, setting (both physical, magical, and social), and protagonist The problem with rumor, Arren thought from the shadow of the alley, was not that it lied. The problem with rumor was that it sometimes told the truth. Arren knew she should be out looking for sure scores, not watching a man across the muddy street, armed with a cheap sword and flintlock, try not to fall asleep. She’d not made a decent score in weeks, and her coin was almost gone. But if rumor was telling the truth, a very rich merchant had just done something very stupid with a very large amount of his coin. If she was ever goin…
Last reply by kcraybould, -
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SECOND SCENE. Follows the Prologue, which has minimal dialogue. The Prologue features the main character sitting in his father's office contemplating suicide. Then the narrative jumps back in time to the beginning of the story that will lead him to that tragic moment/state of mind. It is a morning like any other morning when it all changes. Or, rather, it does not change. The undaunted and undauntable world, such as it is, was created longer ago than we dare comprehend by forces far greater than our poor power to manipulate. It is only that the late surface matter is scoured away and the skeletal truth revealed through white fire and through clouds of bilious hellsmo…
Last reply by Steve Dunn, -
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Hello! Thanks for reading the first scene of The Cleveland Phoenix, a science fiction/adventure manuscript. The chapter below introduces the protagonist, the antagonist, and the primary conflict of the novel, as well as the setting and tone. Chapter 1: Dortollen Licorice Star Year 2722 – Shaula System – Fifteen Years Ago Cassander of Arkan didn’t believe the Vikaanians. The human’s face bunched to one side, skeptical. Watching the time, he raised an eyebrow behind his portable oxygen generator–a black fabric mask cradling a translator insert and a long, clear tube running to a palm-sized box in the pocket of his jacket. The box clicked every few seconds…
Last reply by Erica Vanstone, -
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Back of Chapter One - Establishes Primary and secondary protagonists, their relationship, and the personal conflict that arises from it. Touches on setting and tone. Introduces secondary antagonist and foreshadows primary conflict. Anders threw a cheerful refrain into the growing raucousness as a bard fell from the bar top before he could finish his deaf tune. "Good show!" he laughed, seeming to believe that there was such a thing in this shanty town and the performance they had just endured met that most basic standard of good. "Come on Viv, crack a smile!" Vivica did no such thing, not least in part because Anders had made his demand of her with a mo…
Last reply by DomGerard, -
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Oslo Jones felt the mule stumble beneath him. Its breath came in wheezing burbles. Another day’s ride and it would be completely lame. His teeth gritted against that future. They had been together since he left home. He thought of their nights under the stars. He thought of their days passed on empty stomach. He thought of their kinship, completely unfettered by questions. Oslo loosened his grip on the reins and sighed. There wasn’t far to go now. An intruding wind picked up and trail dust surrounded them in dancing plumes. Carried on a stiff breeze, those dust clouds could taunt a rider for miles.…
Last reply by Osahon Okundaye, -
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Just before she leaps from the ledge. When the light is such that the street below remains a half answered question. She presses her toes together so that the blood drains and the tips become white against the rich colored bricks. Then, without breath. Without hesitation. She goes barefoot. Out into the radiating darkness. Her hair floats soundlessly above her and her shirt luffs against her body. It is 5.9 seconds from the cloudless sky to the earth. Just longer than it takes to blow out a birthday candle. There is a mathematical equation to represent the force exerted by the pavement upon her body. It's easier …
Last reply by Natasha Williams,
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